


Missing scene

by asparagusmama



Series: Seasons AU - extras! [7]
Category: Lewis - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is called missing scene for something (Blue Autumn Love) that is still with my off-line beta but works alone.<br/>James Hathaway faces his childhood and his Catholic guilt in ways he's not contemplated before and learns to have fun. Lots of fun. Shed loads of fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing scene

**Author's Note:**

> Not for my daughter, obviously. I needed to know what the witnesses in Blue Autumn Love over heard and what was going on between the boys. My first explicit fiction since 1997. It comes at the end of the first chapter, if you want to read it in situ.
> 
> Lewis and Hathaway belong to ITV
> 
> Frank emotional and descriptive details of being sexually abused as a child. I didn’t invent the childhood sexual abuse. Russell Lewis did that. It’s canon. And not dealt with well. And that pisses me off.

Blue Autumn Love: Missing scene

James, having put away the best part of two bottles of red wine, plus brandy, stumbled out of the lift, giggling. Robbie caught hold of him, laughing. They staggered to their door. Below came the sounds from the people in the pool, behind the closing off of muzak as the lift door closed, informing them it was going up as the door closed with a ping, the piped Cold Play coming from the corridor speakers suddenly provided the soundtrack.

James started to kiss Robbie as he unlocked the door, stumbling back into the room, kissing all the while, falling back on to the bed, legs apart, pulling Robbie on top of him. Feeling light headed and exhilarated as Robbie moved, pressing his weight down, pressing James back in to the quilt and mattress, kissing more intensely, deeper, he tugged at James’ tee shirts until they’re pushed up. James whimpered as Robbie ran his hands over his bare chest and stomach...

Time evaporated. Lost in sensations of gentle touch, of kisses, of murmured endearments not heard, James is lost, utterly lost. He’d thought of sex as merely the act of penetration, something that happened with no prelimeries, no touch, no love. Even in dreams and fantasies he had no comparison to make. Abuse and a few fumbling teenage snogs and gropes in bars and at parties during his first year at Cambridge before he decided on celibacy for life. Hah! So he thought. What do we know at eighteen? Augustus Mortmaigne and a few failed attempts at moving beyond very unsatisfactory kisses with women, convincing himself he could be straight, that he was straight. Inexperience and too much experience in one short lifetime, the experience and loss of innocence coming before the most inexperienced, innocent attempts at romance or dating...

Somehow, although how James couldn’t remember, they were both naked, with him spread eagled under Robbie, Robbie’s hard on pressing against his, yet, yet...

“Open your eyes James. Please. Open your eyes.” Robbie’s has his hands on his face, either side, while James’ eyes are squeezed tight shut, he doesn’t know why. Slowly he opened then to stare up into Robbie’s.

“I’m going to get the condoms and lube. If that’s alright with you?”

James shivered and nodded.

“Sure?”

“Sure,” he whispered and then shuddered. He closed his eyes again.

“Open your eyes pet.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s me. You need to see it’s me.”

James opened his eyes again, but he had no idea how worried his eyes looked to Robbie. He made a move to roll over, but Robbie put a hand to his chest and pressed gently to stop him.

“No. We’re doing this face to face. I want you to see it’s me, alright. You need to know it’s me.”

“Can we..?”

“Put your legs up. That’s right, rest them on my shoulders.”

James did so, but squeezed his eyes tight shut at the sight of the K-Y in Robbie’s hand.

“Open your eyes. Come on pet.”

“Can’t.”

“Are you sure baby?”

Something about being called baby by D.I. Lewis makes James melt. He whispered a barely audible yes, heart and mind opening, surrendering to the man he’d silently adored for years at the same time as his body, with its own bodily knowledge and memories of the past decided to shut down and he tensed up.

Robbie was gentle, as gentle as he could be, but it is ten years since he and Val, and far, far longer since he and Val indulged in anything so dangerously exciting as anal sex and so he was clumsy, so very clumsy just as James’ body tensed up.

James screamed a terrifying scream, the scream of a petrified, hurt, small child. His eyes were still tight shut but tears still managed to escape. Robbie struggled to withdraw gently as James pulled away, backing up the bed. He curled up into a foetal ball on the pillows, pressing into the leather padded bed head. The scream soon subsided into wracking sobs, sobs that had been held in check for too long, for over 20 years.

Robbie’s first instinct was to reach out, to comfort. Instead he removed the condom and cleaned himself up, then got dressed again while he tried to block out the appalling thought of James that tense and frightened, struggling uselessly as a child, as a small, powerless child.

Eventually James’ sobbing subsided and he allowed Robbie to pull him into a hug.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” James mumbled into Robbie’s shoulder.

“And I was more worried that you would flashback to that truck,” Robbie tried to inject a little upbeat if black humour into the situation.

“I was fine. It was as if my body remembered. Not me, in here,” James tapped the side of his head. “My body seemed to fight me as much as you. God! I love you so much. I want you inside me, I do. I do...”

“It’s fine. We’ll try again another time, another day.”

“No. Now. I’m tired of being so fucking fucked up!” James pulled away, stood up and walked to the mini bar, where he downed two mini bottles of Bells’, one after the other. He swayed a bit where he stood, staring at Robbie with a challenging look of defiance. “We agreed. I say stop or out. I didn’t. You shouldn’t have stopped.”

“No bloody way man. I hate myself as it is. To carry on? No way. And I was the one who screwed up. I was clumsy, I took you at the wrong angle. I hurt you. It’s my fault you remembered. I never meant to hurt you. Never.” Robbie caught hold of James’ wrist, pulling him slowly back to the bed.

“It’s not your fault. I know you’d never hurt me.”

“But I did.”

“Not on purpose,” said James, adding instinctively, “Sir.” Putting his hand to his mouth his eyes widened in horror and embarrassment at what he’d said.

Robbie just smiled at him. “Come here pet. I have an idea.”

“What?”

“What do you want?”

“I really want you to fuck me. I want it. My head and my heart want it. I don’t give a fuck what the church says, God made me like this, He made my sexuality, and everything God does is good, right?”

“You’re asking me!” Robbie shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry pet, I don’t believe in God anymore.”

“Well I do. I believe. I believe He has a plan, a reason. I just don’t believe in the church, in religion.” James stood in the middle of the floor, gesturing with his finger, pointing aggressively to make each point. “God made me gay, not Augustus Mortmaigne.”

“Is that what you thought? Shit James...”

“It’s right. So right.” As suddenly as he was angry, James became tearful. He hid his face, turning his head. “I love you Robbie.” He tilted his head lower and whispered, “Please, if I bottle this again Augustus will have won, however much you and Laxton got him in prison.”

Robbie stood up and came over to James, taking hold of his hand and guided him back to bed and made him sit down before he walked off to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something baby boy. Aha!” Robbie returned carried a bottle of the hotel’s expensive complimentary hand cream and a towel. “Lie down.”

“What?”

“On you belly. Lie down.” Robbie sat on the bed. “That’s right.” He grabbed a pillow and covered it in the towel. “Put this underneath you.”

“Are you going to fuck me?” Despite all his anger and determination, James still sounded apprehensive.

“Maybe. In a while. Depends. No. I’m going to give you a massage. Get rid of all your tension.”

Robbie sat down next to James, put the cream on his hands and began to smooth it over James’ back, massaging and smoothing away knotted, tense muscles.

“This is nice,” James murmured, turning his head to face the open window, before sighing quietly.

After a while, Robbie spoke. “I was just wondering,” he began lightly.

“What?”

“Well, I’ve been with no-one since Val, and your forensic medical said those bastards used condoms, so...”

“So?”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me? Scarlet Mortmaigne, for instance?”

“She’d have liked to. Just to control, confuse the investigation...”

“Aye, she did that alright.”

“Well. Unfortunately, for her, I’m gay. We tried, but it became rather obvious to her – to me, finally, obviously...”

“Robbie sighed, “You couldn’t get it up.”

“Succinctly put.”

“So that means you and Fiona..?”

“Never got past the kissing stage.”

“Hey. You’re tensing up again.” Robbie concentrated on massaging James’ neck and shoulders.

James sighed and turned his head to face the wall. “Is this all about condoms?”

“Yeah, well, in the time it took for me to put one on you’d gone from turned on to terrified. I was thinking...” Robbie experimentally trailed one hand down James’ spine all the way, and then continuing. James involuntarily tensed. Robbie took his hand away. Maybe hypnotherapy might work? If the whole weekend was a disaster.

“I’ve had two AIDS tests since those bastards...”

“Yeah I know.”

“How?”

“Laura told me.”

“The bitch. I confided in her.”

“She had your best interests at heart.”

“Yours, you mean.”

“There shouldn’t be a difference, This is us, together,” Robbie lost his temper and almost shouted. Another cold shower beckoning, something in him snapped. He slid his hand down James’ back once again, this time not stopping, instead sliding in one slick finger into James’ very tight arse. James gasped, but didn’t object. Slowly Robbie moved his finger. James moaned but still didn’t object. Robbie pushed in a second finger.

“Nice is it?” he couldn’t keep the smug tone from his voice, encouraged by James’ sharp breaths.

“Sir!”

“What did I say about..?” Although, actually, Robbie decided he quite liked it. What did that say about him, he wondered. He withdrew his fingers and slowly, very slowly slid in his cock until he was buried deep in James. He stayed still, giving James time to adjust, waiting fearfully for another panic attack. It was hell, every fibre of his being screamed at him to thrust, but he lay still, pressing James to the bed, stroking his blond hair with one hand and holding one of James’ hands with the other.

“Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sure?”

James nodded.

“You still have control. You don’t need to scream. You just tell me to stop and I will.”

“M’m.”

James felt ecstatic, terrified and overwhelmed and it seemed to get simultaneously better and worse as Robbie began to move; slow, firm, gentle thrusts that caused James to emit low shuddering moans that he didn’t know he was capable of making. Robbie began to caress and kiss him as he fucked him, nipping his neck and shoulders with sharp teeth and all the while whispering reassurances and endearments James could never have imagined his boss saying in a million years. James’ body, which had first betrayed him, seemed now to know what to do, and he began to move his hips to meet those thrusts, crying out for more. It was all too much for him and it was hardly anytime at all until he’d come, letting out an unearthly noise, something that began as a low moan deep in his throat and ended with a deep cry. He felt so deeply satiated, so relaxed and his limbs so weak he barely noticed as Robbie continued fucking him, harder, faster, pressing him down into his own sticky mess until he came, rhythmically, deep inside, swearing in sheer joy.

“Alright pet?” Robbie asked, stroking James’ hair. Twisting the short blond curls and pulling his face around and leaning over to give him an awkward kiss. He pulled the towel and pillow away from under James, letting James sink into clean sheets, still staying, limp, inside him. The kiss alerted him to the fact of more tears, but he didn’t comment, just continued to kiss the tears away.

“Alright James?” he asked again when he realised James wasn’t going to answer.

“Don’t know.”

Robbie began to trace patterns with his teeth and lips across the back of James’ neck and shoulder blades as well as keeping one hand on James’ hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Well, then.”

“But I thought...”

“What?”

“Don’t know.”

Robbie did stop, and instead wrapped his arms around James and pulled them on to their side, spooning. As he turned he slid out of James, who gave a little gasp.

“Okay?” Robbie asked again.

James wriggled around to face Robbie, snuggling into him, laying his head on his chest.

“You’re all bloody legs, you are,” Robbie pretended to grumble.

“Thank you.”

“For what, taking your cherry, as we used to say in the bad old days.”

“Eh? What? Cherry?”

Robbie stroked James’ hair again. “Virginity. If what you were telling me is true.”

“I’ve never done this before, no, not with consent, but I’ve not been a virgin since I was a child.”

“That doesn’t count. Nor those Russian bastards.” Robbie was genuinely irritable, but not at James, and James realised that. He began to talk openly, as he never had, without distress, but without resorting to the cold, distant voice he’d used giving Laxton his statement and giving evidence in court.

“I was nine. When you tried, the first time, it was – well, I remembered it so clearly.”

“I don’t know what to say, except I’m here for you pet. I love you.”

“When you suggested other things, you know? This afternoon. I froze. I think that’s a worse one, for me. I still have nightmares. I can’t breathe. It’s like that, still, with food sometimes. I hate... I hate anything in my mouth. I can’t breathe, I can’t swallow, I can’t...”

“Hey, hey. We don’t need to talk about this. You don’t need to explain to me. If you feel uncomfortable with anything, you tell me, okay? You don’t need to tell me why. I’ll understand.”

“I think I need to... I’m only just making connections. I can’t bear the thought of it. I’m sorry. I was six when he first made me. Six! I think it’s why I hate eating.”

“Bastard!”

“So, I don’t think I could ever...”

“An hour ago you didn’t think you’d let me fuck you. There’s time. We’ve all the time in the world. I’m not going to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Ever.” Robbie smiled and although James had his head on his chest and his eyes closed still could feel that smile. “And besides, I could still give you a blow job.”

“That wouldn’t be fair.”

“This isn’t about fairness, it’s about love. Making love.”

James looked up and kissed Robbie deeply, trying to roll over and pull Robbie on top of him. As soon as he felt Robbie harden against his thigh he whispered, “Fuck me again. Properly. Please.”

“Sure?”

“Please. I want to be sure.”

This time Robbie got James on his knees, which didn’t seem so straight forward when James began to move in a very uncoordinated manner, reminding Robbie of how much alcohol James had consumed. Coupled with the fact James was far too inexperienced to know how to kneel over or when to arch his back, there was a lot of giggling for a while as Robbie did his best to guide him, being yet again patient and the voice of calm. But once Robbie had buried himself deep in James up to the hilt he could stop himself admitting to his own dark fantasies, hidden and denied to himself over the years, always involving bending James over and fucking him senseless – over his desk, over the bonnet of his car, over his sofa, in an interview suite over the table... He lost control, fucking James hard and fast, encouraging by James’ deep, shuddering moans, until –

“Stop! Please!”

It took iron self will to stop, but he did.

“What is it?” Shit! He hadn’t meant to sound angry.

“You’re hurting me. A bit. Sorry. And I feel dizzy.”

“Do you want me to withdraw?” He was still sounding angry and fed up.

James shook his head, so Robbie began to move more slowly, sliding a hand around to encircle James’ cock, pumping, matching rhythms until he was fucking him as fast as ever. They came together, tumbling back on the bed.

“Okay?” Robbie checked again, afraid that this new James, his gloriously dirty bitch, was going to turn back into his frigid, fucked up, miserable sergeant of the past few years.

“Still feel a bit dizzy,” James said in a small voice. “In fact –” he leapt off the bed and ran to the bathroom with one hand over his mouth. Robbie followed him and held his forehead while James puked up most of the wine, scotch and brandy, along with the minute amount of lemon sole, petit pois and chocolate cheesecake he’d picked at earlier on.

James sat on the floor, curled up on his thigh, head leant on the toilet bowl, faced flushed. “Sorry. I’m sorry. God, that was so unromantic.”

“It’s okay. You had a lot to drink." Robbie reached over James and switched on the shower. “Come on pet,” Robbie said, hauling James to his feet.

“Oh!” James uttered, recognizing the sensation of feeling cum run down the back of his thigh. It felt weird, recognising the feeling, knowing what it was but at the same time experiencing a strange de ja vu of feeling it but not knowing what it was, just a feeling of yukkiness and dirtiness and guilt that Augustus wasn’t happy with him and the fear his mother would find out and tell him off. The strange way we see the world as small children, he thought to himself.

As soon as the thought was out, in his consciousness mind, he began to cry, quietly and gently, for the first time, for the boy he had been, for his lost childhood, as if he could look back and see himself at six or nine or twelve as a separate person and grieve for their pain. Robbie said nothing, for which he was grateful, instead just guided him into the shower.

When James came out of the shower, he thought Robbie was asleep. He got in to bed beside him and snuggled up close, surprised when an arm reached out to enfold him.

“Okay now?”

“Think so.”

“I made you a coffee. It’s on the bedside table. Probably cold now.”

James sniffed. “Yeah. I was bit drunk.”

“More than a bit, I would say.”

James sat up and sipped the coffee. He put it down. Stone cold.

Robbie reached out and pulled him under the duvet, kissing him. James pulled away.

“I want to do it again. Please.”

“What?”

“Please. Again. I want to make sure. I’m almost sober. I need to know I can do it sober.”

Robbie kissed James lightly. “I’ve unleashed a monster! I know you want to make up for lost time love, but spare a thought for me, eh? I’m an old man, nearly twice your age.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s true. You’ll get bored of me and –”

“Never! Never, never, never! I’ll never stop loving you. Ever.” James put his hands to Robbie’s face and pulled him into a kiss, rolling back and pulling Robbie on top of him. Eventually he stopped, opened his eyes and looked into Robbie’s. “Please Sir, fuck me. I need to know.”

“Ah well, that’s the fourth time you’ve called me Sir. That’s your three chances used up. I’ll have to punish you.”

“What?” James recalled Robbie’s joke in the car on the way to the hotel. “Spank me?”

“Oh yes.”

James eyes widened and he laughed nervously. Robbie watched the apprehension and anticipation play in James’ eyes. He shook his head slightly, but Robbie could tell James’ himself wasn’t sure if he was giving a refusal or if it was just disbelief.

James tried to push Robbie off him, to move away, but suddenly Robbie had grabbed his arms and pulled them above his head, and the same time moving to sit on him, pressing knees into his thighs. Pinioned and captured, James arched his back and tried to kick his legs, only to find himself strangely delighted rather than afraid that he’d been overpowered so easily.

“Do you want me to let you go?”

James let out a half strangled, “Yeah, I think.”

“You think? You’re not sure?”

James didn’t expect to be freed, but Robbie climbed off him, releasing his wrists, and sat beside him. James, confused by his own reaction, made to get off the bed, but suddenly he was grabbed and pulled back. Laughing hysterically, he made a play at struggling, but it was half hearted. Before he knew what was happening Robbie had him bent over his lap and was gently, very gently spanking him.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” Robbie commented, stopping and pushing James off him.

“What?”

Robbie was laughing now, standing up, dragging James to the edge of the bed by his ankles.

“On your knees. Now.”

“What?”

“I thought you wanted another seeing to.”

This time James knew when to arch his back. With Robbie standing this time, James began to shudder at each thrust, as Robbie slowly and deliberately pulled out almost completely each time, matching the slow withdrawal with a fast, hard, sharp thrust right up to the hilt, delighting in James’ moans. This time, having had a little practice, he could go for as long as he liked, or as long as James didn’t say stop. He dug his fingers into James hips a little too sharply and began to fuck fast and mean, a little selfish for the first time and not surprised that James was loving it, because over the almost five years he had known him Robbie had seen enough little hints at what was buried beneath the surface, maimed and twisted by faith and abuse. Besides, there was no one more depraved than a fallen Catholic!

With nothing else, no touching, no reaching around, no kissing, no talking, James came, crying out, “Oh God!” at the top of his voice in wonder, half expletive, half genuine prayer. Robbie was not far behind. He left James collapsed on the bed for the bathroom immediately after he withdrew.

James was back under the quilt when he returned, drinking mineral water.

“Can I ask you something?” James said, as Robbie climbed in bed beside him.

“Sure. Anything. As long as it’s not for more sex. I’m bloody knackered, man.”

“Do you promise you won’t get angry?”

“Scouts honour,” Robbie smiled, and for the hell of it, kissed the top of James’ nose.

“Were you this dirty with your wife?”

“James, you have no idea! But that was then, this is now.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“I’m the one that’s supposed to ask you that.”

“But... but you were straight.”

“Bisexual,” corrected Robbie.

“But in all that time...?” The question went unasked as Robbie cut across James.

“Love. Monogamy. This is who I am, James. I loved Val, with all my heart, I thought it was for life.” He sighed, a deep sadness misting his eyes. “Well, it was, for Val’s life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Now, I have another chance at love. With you. If you’ll have me?”

James laugh was on the edge of hysteria. “I think I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Robbie sighed and pulled James close. “Go to sleep, pet,” and he did so, quietly and suddenly, his head on Robbie’s chest, feet sticking out of the end of the bed. Robbie lay wide awake, staring out of the balcony window at the deep yellow harvest moon and the stars, lost in memories of Val, the blue flash to the left of the balcony barely registering in his line of vision.


End file.
